Blood and Faith
by ChristineFury
Summary: Maidievh Hawke didn't expect to become Champion of Kirkwall, and didn't expect the maelstrom of problems and blessings it would bring her. She also didn't expect falling in love with a political figure, and how it would test her own warped sense of faith.
1. A Beginning

The bleary sunlight was blotted out as the gargantuan wings spread across the horizon, and the hissing growl issued from between glittering sharp fangs. Purple and fuchsia scales glittered in the early morning light, clever and wry yellow eyes glinting as they observed the woman staring back in longing, jealousy and gratitude. The dragon hissed again, the sound crescendoing into a roar that shook the trees close by, then reared and launched herself into the morning skies, keening her farewell. Maidievh Hawke wondered, and not for the first time in the past few days, what had happened to have legends walk- or in this case, fly- into her life. A few days ago, she'd been certain she and her family were going to die at the hands of the Darkspawn, but now, they were safely at Gwaren, to take ship to Kirkwall, from the favor of a DRAGON, of all things- and not just any dragon, but Flemeth, Asha-Bellenar, The Witch of the Wilds- provided they deliver an amulet to a Dalish Keeper at her behest.

Her eyes followed the dragoness' progress in the sky until she disappeared in the distance, a fierce jealous ache in her heart. Her father had told her stories of dragons and their surrounding myths and legends, and how some mages in Tevinter had been able to change into their shape, to borrow their wings for flight. Maidievh had always dreamed of changing into a dragon, but had thought it an impossible dream. Now, watching Flemeth fly away, she knew it was possible somehow. She only wished the sorceress had at least given her a hint on where to start. To be able to shed her earthly body, trade it for rippling muscle, glittering scales and ripping fangs and claws, and launch herself into the sky, leaving everything behind. To fly far away, to fly away from the Blight, the templars and the pain of everything she had lost...

_One day, Mai. One day. For now, we need to get the family, and Aveline, to safety,_ she thought, tearing her eyes from the sky where Flemeth had been, moving to join her company. Maidievh wasn't happy about the whole situation as they trekked into Gwaren. Flemeth had given them seven sovereigns and a handful of silver to get them aboard a ship, but Mai kept thinking that the sovereigns would be better spent finding a home in Gwaren, and NOT going to Kirkwall, where the templars were thick as thieves, and crueler by far- at least a thief would spare your life if he was in a good mood and you gave him coin. The amulet weighed against Mai's chest, almost thrumming with a latent energy, and her heart sank. She had promised to deliver the amulet, and she never broke a promise. They had no choice. They had to go to Kirkwall. There was no way around it. She sighed and ran her fingers through her honey blonde hair in frustrated resignation, letting the mussed tresses fall in thick waves around her face and over her shoulders before reaching up and rubbing the bridge of her nose, her fingers sliding over the bright pink scar that spanned from cheek to cheek across her nose- a souvenir from her first magic accident.

The morning crowd eyed them apprehensively as they moved into town. It was obvious they were refugees, their clothes dirty, hair disheveled, little carried with them, and some folk were skirting around them as though being a refugee was an illness that was contagious. Aveline furrowed her brow a bit as Mai approached a baker and purchased a few meat pies for their breakfast. Mai knew Aveline was worried about spending too much, but she said nothing as a meat pie was held out to her, her hunger getting the better of her. Mai smiled as Aveline took the proffered pie, eating it with gusto, and she handed one to Carver and Mother before kneeling and holding out one to Aleun. The mabari barked happily and wolfed it down in one hearty bite. She laughed lovingly at him as she devoured her own pie, savoring the warm spiced meat and flaky crust.

"Now there's a spoiled mabari," a dry baritone voice said behind her.

"Is there any other kind?" Mai replied just as dryly, humor keeping any harshness from her voice as she turned, wiping her mouth.

She blanched a bit and skittered back a few steps. For the first time since they'd left Lothering, she was glad her staff- a beloved thing her father had helped her craft, something she'd mourned the loss of, even if it did mark her as a mage to those who saw her- was broken and amongst the ruins of their home as she locked gazes with a man who trusted mages like the Grey Wardens trusted an Archdemon. Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking at Aleun appreciatively. His chevalier armor glinted in the light, his sword and shield strapped to his back, even at this early hour. Mai bowed her head, looking fixedly at the ground.

"G-good morning, Teyrn Mac Tir," she said carefully as he looked over their little rag-tag group.

Aveline was quiet, and Carver was gawking openly, his mouth still full of a bite of pie- ever the slow eater. Leandra nudged him anxiously and he snapped his jaw shut. Loghain looked back at Mai, his steely blue eyes boring into hers, and to her horror, she could see the gears whirring in his mind as he took them in- their appearance, their mabari, the templar shield on Aveline's back, and the fact that Mai had no visible weapons, whereas her companions did- even Leandra had a small dagger strapped to her belt. Mai flicked her aqua colored eyes to the docks, where a boat was waiting, most likely ready to sail before noon. She wanted nothing more than to run for the ship. Loghain frowned.

"You're not residents of Gwaren- I'd remember seeing a family with such a fine mabari," he said carefully. Mai shook her head.

"N-no, your Grace," she replied, her mouth dry. "We've been fleeing the Darkspawn."

Loghain tilted his head, a frown creasing his lean face, his sharp hooded eyes darkening. She knew he was counting the days from Ostagar, recalling the closest town that had been ravaged- and she knew he was wondering how by the Void they'd gotten to Gwaren so quickly. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she felt her stomach bottom out.

"Where are you from?" He asked, and Mai's mouth felt like sandpaper. Leandra looked like she might faint, and Carver was looking pale under the dirt on his face. Aveline stepped forward, and Mai thanked the Maker for her being there, as her quick thinking was what saved them.

"We were at Ostagar, your Grace," she said sadly. "My husband was a templar and he was from Kirkwall, as is this young woman. The Fereldan Circle had asked Kirkwall for assistance, and this senior enchanter was sent to speak with First Enchanter Irving. My husband... Knight Captain Wesley, was sent to talk to Knight Commander Greagoir and watch over her."

Her face grew pained.

"My husband died at Ostagar, and it falls to me to return the Senior Enchanter to Kirkwall."

Loghain was watching and listening with a mixture of sympathy and scrutiny.

"So you're a mage... a Senior Enchanter...," he said carefully. Mai nodded and wondered if she should do some magic to prove her control. Loghain answered the question for her, his face becoming hard.

"So you've had your Harrowing and have control of your magic- even fire," he stated simply.

Mai nodded and conjured a small sphere of flame in her palm, making it spin, dance and grow with little effort, and with a simple motion, dismissed it. Loghain looked uncomfortable, but nodded. Mai, caught up in showing off, lifted a brow and trailed a finger down her own arm, fingertip glowing with a white blue light that was soothing, calming and gentle.

"I know you were wondering at our lack of injuries. I have excellent control, but I am proficient at healing, hence why I was sent to aid the Ferelden Circle- they have few healers," she said. Loghain seemed to be satisfied that his unspoken question was answered, then made a face.

"One dedicated spirit healer, last I checked- their second keeps escaping the Tower- the templars need to tighten their leashes on the mages," he said, and that statement brought his attention back to Aveline.

"And you... are a templar, are you?" He asked skeptically, eyeing her attire. Aveline set her jaw firmly.

"No, your Grace, but I am a soldier in King Cailan's army. It is my duty to my King, deceased or not, that I carry out the work of the Maker, and shoulder the duty my husband was charged to fulfill."

Loghain shifted his weight uncomfortably, and Mai knew Aveline had said the wrong thing. She held out her hands imploringly.

"Please, your Grace. The First Enchanter and the Knight Commander will be most upset if we do not return. We simply wish nothing more than to return to Kirkwall," she said, her tone pleading. Loghain eyed Carver and Leandra.

"And who are these two?" He asked, and Mai was grateful that they were so disheveled and dirty that the familial resemblance was hard to see.

"Fellow refugees," she said simply. Aveline put an arm around Carver's shoulder, and in a clever move, mussed his hair- so that it fell over his face. Carver grumbled, taking up the farce, but wisely kept his big mouth shut. Aveline forced a chuckle before releasing him.

"This young man is my cousin, and this woman is his mother- my aunt," she said simply. "The mabari is hers."

Aleun was a smart dog, and he nosed Leandra's hand, wagging his tail and whining happily. Loghain nodded, still suspicious, but he obviously didn't like Aveline after her statement of duty to the King, and seemed eager to let them move on. Mai glanced at Aveline pointedly.

"We really should see if we can secure passage to Kirkwall- you know the Knight Commander will level the city if we don't come back," she said calmly. Aveline took her lead and nodded anxiously. "We really don't want to upset the First Enchanter, either. I remember the LAST time those two were kept waiting..." Mai said, her lower lip trembling with nerves she didn't need to feign. Aveline shuddered.

"I don't know either of them, but I know Knight Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving, and making Greagoir wait for his mages to return was like telling an Archdemon to wait for a country to get ready before starting a Blight," she said curtly, the comment a stab at Loghain, who didn't even blink, to his credit- though Mai was willing to bet he'd be feeling that lash of Aveline's tongue for a while. Mai wracked her mind- what was the Knight Commander's name again? Father had told her about the harsh methods of the Knight Commander before, told her the templar's name before...a woman's name... Mary, Mildred.. Mer- MEREDITH. That was it.

"Knight Commander Meredith makes an Archdemon look **patient**. I won't be the subject of her wrath again," she said firmly. She HATED that she didn't know the First Enchanter's name. Why hadn't Father mentioned it? Maker help her, if Loghain asked her their name... she didn't even know if the First Enchanter of Kirkwall was male or female... Void take her, she didn't even know if they were an elf or human! _'Mother, help me_!' She thought desperately. Loghain lifted a brow.

"Sounds like the heads of your Tower butt heads worse than ours- is the First Enchanter a man or a woman?" He asked. Mai felt her heart stop. Oh Maker, help her!

"A man, your Grace, an elven man, by the name of Orsino," Leandra said suddenly, and Mai blinked, hoping her mother was right. Leandra shot Mai a look that assured her she was, and Mai huffed.

"Thank you, Miss Varnell, for answering my question," she said in mock offense. Leandra laughed.

"Sorry, miss. This old chicken likes to feel worldly sometimes," she said earnestly. Maidievh looked back at Loghain.

"As my companion has so stated, stealing my authority, First Enchanter Orsino is an elven man, and yes, he and the Knight Commander do not get along so well- to put it lightly. I would rather not be caught between their fury, as it can be a bit uncomfortable, so I'd like to be heading back home as soon as possible," she said cautiously.

Loghain finally relented, and moved aside, motioning at the ship.

"I myself should start heading to Denerim. Have a safe journey then," he said. Mai nodded and headed to the ship, trying not to show her relief. Aveline scowled as soon as the Teyrn turned and headed in the opposite direction.

"Yes, go to Denerim and continue your treason, Loghain, you treacherous bastard," she muttered so only her party could hear. Mai said nothing, relieved that Loghain wouldn't be turning them in to the templars of Ferelden.

'_You're relieved to escape Ferelden and make way to the nest of templars in Kirkwall,_' she thought wryly to herself. '_You've lost it, Maidievh_.'

They reached the docks, and Mai looked to the captain.

"This ship headed to the Free Marches?" She asked. The captain nodded, eyeing her.

"Gonna cost a sovereign a head- won't charge for the mabari if 'e's a good dog and leaves the ship's cat alone," he said carefully. Aleun huffed indignantly, and Mai laughed.

"He won't. He knows better, Ser."

The captain grunted in satisfaction and held out his hand. Mai handed all but two of the sovereigns to the man. Without a word, he nodded and waved them onto the ship. They boarded and settled in the hold out of the sailors' way. Within the hour, the ship began to set sail. Mai leaned against the mast and closed her eyes, mumbling affectionately at Aleun as he curled up against her, but she still worried. They had escaped a minor threat and were heading to a major one.

_'I hope this home in Kirkwall is worth it_,' Mai thought. She fell asleep, lulled by the rocking of the boat, and her dreams haunted her.

_She had shed her weak body for the powerful form of a High Dragon, and she flew over Ferelden and the Free Marches, roaring her supremecy to the skies above and the land below. She was freedom embodied, powerful, graceful and beautiful, and she swelled with joy and pride as living creatures cowered as the shadow of her wings swept over the land. She swept over the Tower of Kirkwall, and she let loose a jettison of flame at the templars on the roof, roaring in glee as they flailed in pain and panic. _

_ She banked hard to her right as a bolt of bright red magic flew past her, barely missing her wing. She snaked her head around, roaring her anger from parted jaws, wicked fangs glittering in malice, her aqua eyes narrowed- who would DARE? A single figure stood on the roof, brandishing a staff at her. She couldn't discern a race or gender- all she saw was desperation and power rippling around them. She roared again and sent another blast of fire at her challenger. How dare this tiny thing challenge her, ruin her destruction of the templars! The fire swirled around the figure, but didn't set it aflame. She roared in anger, and blind with frustration, she failed to see the bolt of blood rushing at her throat. She shrieked her rage to the skies as the bolt curled around her, slicing her neck, and snaking to her wings, shredding them._

_ She screamed in pain and panic as she fell, and she reclaimed her human form. The figure above her screamed her name, reaching for her, realizing too late that they knew her, even though they remained a mystery to her eyes; she still saw no face, nothing that told her even the gender of her attacker that now felt agony at her downfall. She tried to assume her dragon form again, but the wings weren't renewed. The blood magic had ruined them- she would never fly again. She screamed in fear, confusion and pain as the sea below her seemed to rise up angrily to claim her, to swallow her up. It was rising, and it would cover her up entirely. She took a deep breath, thinking to herself that it was the figure's fault... and she would be back to haunt them- after she was done drowning, unable to move after bleeding out from her shredded wings. She tried to take another deep breath as the water closed in around her, as though it would make the level of the water go down enough to help her get out. _

_ Everything burned in agony before turning black as she let out one final gurgling scream._

Mai woke with a scream, and found she was curled up in her mother's arms. Leandra rocked her daughter back and forth, humming softly to calm her. After years of not getting along with her mother, after the fight they'd had where Leandra had blamed Bethany's death on her, she was there for her. Mai broke down into tears, burying her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as her mother's presence broke down her defenses. She sobbed in fear of what the dream could have meant. She sobbed in fear for what the dream could have been foretelling. Most of all, she sobbed from a mixture of desperation that she would never fly like she did in her dream, and in the horror of dreaming her own death- a death that seemed real to her, real in a sense that she had glimpsed what could happen. The dream was a warning, but who was it warning her against? She continued sobbing, clinging to her mother.

"I know, baby, I miss her, too," Leandra said, her own voice choked with sorrow as she smoothed Mai's hair.

Mai didn't have the heart to tell her mother that her tears weren't inspired by mourning for Bethany.

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"No? What do you mean, 'No?' I've killed ogres, surely that qualifies me for a spot in your team! I bet half of your team hasn't even SEEN a hurlock, let alone fight one!" Mai said in exasperation to the dwarf as she walked alongside him. Bartrand Tethras glowered at her venomously, stopping in mid-stride to fold his arms over his chest.

"Unless you brought back a piece of the sodding Archdemon, I mean NO. I have enough lackeys looking for a free handout by offering to bash their weapon against shit. What makes you think I need two more humans flouting around?" he asked in irritation. Mai stopped him before he could reach his office door and encased her hand in blue healing magic, then released it and conjured a fireball. The dwarf didn't look impressed, but she didn't lose momentum.

"I'm not a lackey with a sword and board," she said evenly. "I'm a mage who could heal your expedition, provide magic to light paths, and enough firepower- literally- to set small crowds aflame. Surely you could use the help of an apostate- something tells me you don't have a surplus of those lying about."

Bartrand snorted derisively.

"Woman, over half my party is made up of dwarves- we're immune to your healing magic, and while we wouldn't get burned by your fire should it go awry, I'm not keen on bringing a firecracker underground- not to mention I'm not sure I want to bring the wrath of the templars on my head. You're trying to escape them, aren't you?" He asked, eyeing her. Mai scowled.

"For your information, I'm Fereldan, and the templars don't know I'm here. I'd like to avoid them knowing about me, but I'm not using your expedition to do so. I want to join for a shot at money to make a new life- I'm not asking for a huge cut, I just want to make something to get me the fuck out of Lowtown," she said honestly.

"You and every uprooted dog lord in this festering hole," he countered. He opened the door and pointed her out. "Find another meal ticket, Sparky. Come back and bother me about this again and I'll turn you in to Meredith herself."

Mai strode from his office, trying not to look upset by smoothing the front of her tunic. Carver looked up from where he was leaning against a pillar, lifting a brow at her frustrated face.

"He said no," he said, stating the obvious.

"He said no," she repeated.

Carver made a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a snort, and threw up his arms resignedly. The two began moving through Hightown back towards Lowtown dejectedly. Mai sighed and ran her fingers through her umber brown hair, frowning as the unfamiliar locks fell in her eyes. After a year of working with Meeran, the mercenary hadn't been keen on letting his pet apostate go, and hinted that she would regret leaving the Red Iron. Mai had been worried that she would be tracked down by his lackeys and dragged to the Gallows to fill Meeran's pockets, so she had changed her hair color with a simple spell that she learned in an odd store tucked in a back corner between Dark Town and Lowtown. The store had been full of alarming and interesting artifacts- one of which was a spellbook that had taught her to change small aspects of her appearance. She'd used them to change her honey blonde hair to a soft umber, and she though she couldn't bear to change the color of her eyes, she had slimmed her jaw and removed the bright pink scar from her nose that had made her stand out. Mai stopped fussing with her hair and looked at Carver seriously as he made an angry sound again.

"That was our best shot, you should have let me handle it!" Carver said angrily. "I bet you waved your magic around and-"

"SHUSH, Carver!" She hissed, looking to see if the templar nearby had heard, but he was chatting animatedly with a guard- which gave her an idea. She turned on her heel and headed for the Keep, Carver nearly falling over himself to turn and catch up.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.

"To see Aveline. Maybe she has some bounties we can do," she replied. Carver brightened immediately.

"Great idea! Maybe I can try applying for the guard again!"

A young man with bright orange red hair ran into them, and Mai made a small sound of annoyance- which turned into a snarl of anger as she realized the man had made off with her purse.

"Get the hell back here, you sodding bastard!" She screeched, taking off after him.

Carver bolted after him, leaping over a bench. Mai nearly ran into a woman in full glinting armor- she shouted her apologies and kept going, glad she wasn't wearing robes- leaping over benches and nearly running into people was a mite easier with breeches and a tunic. The woman lifted a blonde brow, her sharp grey eyes following the scene, but she did nothing, shaking her head and continuing along her path, ignoring the chase behind her. The thief didn't make it far- a bolt went flying from nowhere and pinned the man to a wall by the shoulder. Mai and Carver stopped, blinking, and a dwarf strolled from around a corner, shouldering a fine looking crossbow. His eyes scrutinized the thief and he snatched the purse from him, shaking his head.

"I once knew a guy who could rob you blind just by sweet talkin' you. You... you're an amateur compared to him. Hightown may not be your gig, buddy. I suggest you go back to Lowtown and work on your skills there before you get a firm talkin' to," he drawled, pulling the arrow out.

The thief fled without a word, and the dwarf shook his head, snickering, before turning to Mai and Carver as they ran over to him. He cocked his head and grinned winningly at them both, tossing Mai's purse back to her. Mai peered inside. They only had two sovereigns to their name, and thankfully, all their money was still in the small leather pouch. She flicked her eyes to the dwarf.

"Thank you, Ser," she said.

"Ser? Huh. Fereldan," he replied. Mai shrugged.

"Still not used to 'Serah', and 'Messere'. I liike 'Ser' better," she countered. The dwarf shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, as I don't want you callin' me 'Ser'. Name's Varric. Varric Tethras," he said cordially. Mai blinked.

"As in... relation to Bartrand?" She asked incredulously as she took in Varric's appearance- the man was wearing a loose open fronted tunic, a large leather duster, and breeches tucked into leather boots. Unlike most dwarves, he was clean shaven, and had longer blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He laughed at her expression, and the sun glinted on the earrings in her ears as he tilted his head back. Mai couldn't see how this man could possibly be related to the impossible man that had kicked her out of his office.

"Aye. The uptight bastard is my brother."

"Uptight, indeed. Doesn't even want the cheap help of someone like myself," she replied sourly. Varric's eyes glinted.

"You know, we don't need hirelings. We **do**, however, need a partner- someone to invest in the expedition and help fund it. We're still short on funds to get it off the ground," he said slyly. Mai narrowed her eyes.

"Always a catch," she said smoothly, making him grin.

"Indeed. Fifty sovereigns would be the perfect deal breaker to fund the expedition and get your foot in the door."

"Fifty sovereigns?" Carver barked in outrage. "If we 'ad that kind of coin, we wouldn't be scraping the bottom of the barrel, lookin' for crap jobs!"

"As crude as it was put, Carver's right. We wouldn't be trying to get in on the gig if we had that kind of coin," Mai said, cocking her head. Varric shrugged.

"I've always had an ear for rumors that lead to good paying jobs- rumors that tell me you're an apostate, and worked for Meeran," he said carefully, his voice low. Mai jerked back, hissing.

"Does **everyone **in Kirkwall know I'm a mage? Maker's **breath**!" She moaned softly. Carver scowled and Varric held up his hands.

"The templars don't know, or you'd have been taken to the Tower by now, right?" He asked. "Isn't that all that matters?"

Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing.

"You're right, of course. I just...argh. Come on Carver, we need to head to the Keep," she said, nodding at Varric. "It was nice meeting you."

"If you want my help with any jobs here and there around the city, I'm more than happy to help- we would be partners, after all," he said. Mai cocked her head and smiled.

"I'd like that. Thank you, Varric," she said. Varric cracked a winning grin.

"Let's go take the city by storm, shall we?"


	2. Chance Encounter

**AN: **Sorry in advance for the time jumps, but we've all played the game, we know most of the encounters- I'm just going to write the end of each companion introduction with my own twist on the outcomes and reactions, because frankly, that's a lot of shit to write, and I think we all want to get to the PLOT.

* * *

><p>Dark Town was disgusting. "The Undercity," the residents called it. Call it what they would, Mai still thought it was horrid. It reeked of filth, unwashed bodies, rot and above all, fear and discontent. Mai had never thought she would be able to SMELL fear and discontent, but she couldn't name this new scent that assailed her nose. It roiled from the forms of the scowling denizens as their hard contempt filled eyes met hers. She was nothing to them, she was another body taking up space and resources, a threat to their way of life. Mai tried to move with purpose, trying to look like she was looking for SOMEONE, and not SOMETHING. Better to look like an errand girl rather than a new leech in the bowels of this horrid beast known as Kirkwall.<p>

Carver wrinkled his nose, not bothering to hide his disdain at the conditions of the under belly of the city. Normally, Mai would have elbowed him, trying to get him to behave, but his expression made the locals laugh at him, muttering at how the "up roaders" were out of their element. It marked them as visitors, not new neighbors, so Mai didn't admonish her younger brother. Varric was quiet, but his sly eyes were watching every person that came near, and his crossbow remained in easy reach. Aleun whined- as a dog, he liked foul scents by nature, but even this was too much for his sensitive nose, and he kept rubbing his paws over his nose, his ears flattened. Mai felt a pang of guilt; she wished she'd left the poor boy at Gamlen's.

Aveline didn't look happy about all of this. Mai had cornered her in the barracks, asking about any jobs, and sure enough, the guardswoman needed help with a suspected ambush that night. In return, she decided to spend her off duty hours giving some support to her friend. Now, however, she looked like she was regretting it. She kept rolling her shoulder to ensure that her shield was still in easy reach, but was slightly put at ease when the denizens skirted away from her, or nodded their heads at her hopefully- it was their hope that she was actually sent by the guard to see about conditions there.

Mai's sharp eyes caught the lantern the woman had spoken of. It was lit, and the doors were shut. Mai cautiously pushed a door open and strode inside. Her eyes were greeted by the sight of a man holding his hands over the prone body of a young boy, a soothing blue light emanating from the outstretched digits. His eyes were wrenched shut in pain and concentration, the boy's parents watching anxiously. Mai halted, watching the spirit healer at work, remaining silent to keep from interrupting the delicate situation. Her own mana flared in response to the magic at work, sensing a kindred spirit. If she wasn't positive she would shock both healer and patient, she would have rushed over and helped- the man and the boy were in agony, with the pain flowing from the boy to his healer.

Finally, with a gasp from the boy, and a sigh of exhausted relief from the healer, the patient sat up, his eyes opening. His mother swarmed over him, crying, and the father slid an arm around the healer's shoulder, supporting him as he slumped forward in release as the pain left his body. The parents thanked the healer and left the room quickly, their eyes wary as they fell on Mai and her companions. The healer turned around quickly, brandishing his staff, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and fear.

"This place is a sanctuary of healing," he warned. "Why do you come and disturb it?"

Mai said nothing, feeling his exhaustion from across the room. She carefully approached him and held out a hand in a non-threatening gesture. He eyed her carefully, and she lifted her brows, pushing her hand forward some more. Reluctantly, he put his staff down and took her hand. She smiled warmly and let her healing magic engulf their hands, lending him strength. His hand jerked in hers, his eyes going wide. After a few silent moments, Mai pulled her hand back.

"I'm here to talk. Something tells me we have something in common," she quipped. He finally smiled- albeit a small one, and wry at that.

"You're a mage," he said stupidly, at a loss for words. She tittered behind her hand, her eyes twinkling.

"Yes, I'm glad you surmised as much, Ser," she replied lightly, and his eyes widened again.

"Fereldan, too!" He said, blinking.

"Indeed. A fellow Fereldan in Lowtown mentioned you, Ser Anders," Mai chuckled, cocked her head and looked at him seriously, remembering Loghain speaking of a spirit healer that escaped the Circle time and time again. Surely this was no coincidence, but why Kirkwall? She cleared her throat.

"Wait. Teyrn Loghain mentioned you. You're the spirit healer that is a time and time again escapee from Ferelden's Circle," she said simply. Anders glared at her, his guard going back up, and he glanced at Carver and Aveline.

"So those two are your templars... and you're an enchanter here to try to convince me to come back? Or are you with the Wardens? Either way, you won't take me back without a fight!" He said challengingly, lightning crackling at his fingertips. Mai held up her hands frantically.

"No! I'm an apostate! I've never even seen Kinloch Hold. I'm here because I heard you know a way into the Deep Roads," she said in a calming tone. He set his staff down again and the lightning subsided.

"The Deep Roads. I swore I'd never go back there again," he said resolutely. Mai made a pleading face.

"I'm partnering with the Tethras brothers for an expedition down there, and any information you have could save lives," she said earnestly. He lifted a brow.

"You're willingly going down there? Have you ever seen Darkspawn, miss?" He asked with skepticism. Mai tried to suppress the snarl that rose on her lips, but failed.

"My home **was** in Lothering. My family and I- save my sister- barely escaped with our lives. We fought an ogre, fat lot of good it did, seeing as it killed my little sister!" She growled. Anders blinked, looking cowed.

"I... my apologies, miss," he replied. Mai shrugged, shaking her head slightly as though trying to shake off her irritated anger like a horse shaking off flies.

"Think nothing of it, but will you help me?" She asked. Anders turned and paced a few times, rubbing his chin.

"How about this: a favor for a favor. If I help you, will you help me?" He asked, stopping to look her in the eye. Mai canted her head to the side, lifting a brow.

"Depends on the favor- I don't do anything that involves animals or small children," she replied wryly. Anders snorted good naturedly.

"No, it involves helping a fellow mage," he said, making Mai's expression go from wry to genuine interest and concern.

"A fellow mage? Of course I'll help," she said firmly, earning a small soft smile.

"Good. Meet me in Hightown tonight by the Chantry. I worry that my friend Karl will be in danger from the templars. Once we get my friend out of their grasp, I'll give you the maps," he said. Mai nodded, then turned to go, Carver following her with a scowl.

* * *

><p>Mai panted, her chest heaving as the last templar fell to the floor, and her sharp eyes flicked to Anders. The mage was staring at Karl in agony. Mai couldn't blame him- her heart was still recoiling in horror from discovering the man had been made Tranquil. However... there was a light in his eyes.<p>

"Anders... what did you do? It was like you brought a piece of the Fade into this world!" He said- with **feeling**. Anders and Mai blinked in disbelief.

"I thought... I thought you were Tranquil! Tranquil have no connection with the Fade" Mai hissed, heat rising in her voice and cheeks. "Did you trick us?"

Karl looked bewildered, as though he'd just woken from a nightmare, and Mai wondered if it had to do with the odd blue glow and the other... voice that had come from Anders. Anders looked at Karl in horror.

"They... they made you Tranquil. How could they do this to you?" He pleaded, as though receiving an answer would reverse what had been done. Karl still looked bewildered.

"I don't know...I just... it felt like you brought the Fade here, and ...I can **feel**, Anders!" His expression grew devastated. "Please. Kill me, Anders. This won't last. Kill me before I lose myself again!"

"No! I can't! Not you, Karl! There must be another way!" Anders said desperately. Mai saw the clouds of placidity slowly creeping back into Karl's eyes, and she panicked, grabbing Anders' arm and shaking him, locking wide horrified eyes with him. Her bottom lip quivered, and her nose stung with unshed tears.

"Maker's Breath, Anders! I'd rather **die ** than become Tranquil! Have mercy and kill him, or I'll do it myself! Let him die as himself, a man with feeling!" She shrieked, her chest growing tight and her breath short as her fear overcame her- this could be her, this could be her fate, if the templars caught her. Everything she felt, dreamed or loved, gone, erased by the templars who would sooner see her a lifeless thing than free. Anders still balked, and the tears stinging her nose finally poured down her cheeks. She grabbed him by the shoulders and **shook ** him.

"Please!" She sobbed, close to hysterics with her own fear. "Please! For the love of the Maker, **do it**!"

Varric was looking at the two with wide eyes, and Aveline looked shaken. Mai ignored them as she stared into Anders' eyes. She wanted the man to die with something in his heart, in his mind. She wanted him to have one last small moment of freedom, but she couldn't kill the man herself unless Anders refused to do it- it didn't seem right for her to kill his friend. Anders made a strangled sound in his throat, and pulled a dagger from his belt, sinking it into Karl's chest.

"Th- thank you... Anders..." Karl managed before going limp, Anders supporting his friend and lowering his body to the floor.

Mai was silent, tears pouring down her ruddy cheeks. She wanted to fall to the floor, to crumple into a ball, draw her knees to her chest and sob. She wanted to flail her fists at **something, anything**. She wanted to scream, to to shred something, set something on fire- anything she could, because Karl no longer could. Anders looked away and bit his lip.

"Let's go. Before more templars come," he said, his voice flat as he turned to go.

Mai followed him without a word. As they passed through the Chantry doors, he looked her in the eyes, and a wordless statement flew between them. In an instant, from a single horrific event, a friendship, a bond had been formed. Mai wiped her cheeks and crinkled her brow in agony, but she gave Anders a slight nod, and he returned it before they headed back to Dark Town in silence.

* * *

><p>"It never ends. I escape a magister's cruel tyranny, only to find myself ensorcelled by yet another mage."<p>

Mai lifted a contemptuous brow at the scowling elven man, but remained silent, waiting for him to finish. He didn't disappoint, striding over to her with accusations flitting about in his green eyes. She met his glower defiantly, her chin held high, her own eyes glinting.

"I saw you casting spells. I know you're a mage."

"Oh, you saw that, did you? I didn't realize those markings of yours enhanced your observation of the **obvious**," she drawled.

Fenris made a horrible face at her, and Aveline stepped forward, her expression warning him to back off.

"Not all mages are bad, Fenris. I'm a guard first and foremost. If Maidievh was a bad mage, I'd have tried to drag her off long ago," she said evenly. Mai smirked.

"Tried is the key word, Aveline," she snickered, making Aveline scowl.

"Not helping, Hawke."

Fenris returned his hooded gaze back to Mai, and he stared into her eyes. Mai returned the stare, not blinking.

"Your name... It's Tevinter," he said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze. Mai narrowed her eyes.

"What of it, Fenris?" She challenged. He snorted.

"Nothing. The fact that you know what it means, and you know that I know the meaning of your name is enough for me," he said simply. Mai balled her hands into fists.

"My father named me this name, and I like my name. Don't insult his memory by insulting the name he bestowed upon me."

Fenris ignored her comment and went back to appraising her again.

"So are you a bad mage? What sort of mage are you, then?" He asked.

"I just try to get by, and not be imprisoned. How am I any different from you?" She asked scathingly. "I want the same damned thing- to be free."

He snorted and pulled back, making Mai gloat to herself in victory.

"That remains to be seen, I guess," he relented. "We will see in time then, if you are like Denarius or not."

Mai lowered her chin a bit, her gaze still hard.

"I guess we will, won't we?"

* * *

><p>"Kill first, ask questions later?" Mai quipped as the voluptuous woman sheathed her daggers. Isabela laughed throatily and winked before wiping blood off her face.<p>

"It's better that way, trust me, sweeting," she replied in her rich sing-song voice.

Mai shrugged- what was another few deaths?- and flicked her fingers over her cheek, trying in vain to wipe the blood off. Isabela chuckled warmly and pulled a handkerchief from between her breasts, wiping at Mai's cheek with it. Mai's nostrils flared slightly as she smelled the scent of Isabela's musk and perfume on the cloth that was warm from being nestled in her cleavage. Isabela smelled of warm spicy musk, the salty tang of the sea, and smoky notes of booze overlaid with tones of leather. Isabela noticed Mai scenting her, and she winked again.

"I appreciate the help, lovie. I'd be more than happy to tag along and offer some help while I try to track down Castillion's relic for him. I also have a room at the Hanged Man if you want... company," she purred, leaning in to let her warm breath tickle Mai's ear. Anders looked on with keen interest in the form of brows raised so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline, and Aveline covered her face with her hand. Mai squirmed- she wasn't adverse to having the attention of the beautiful woman, but they'd just met, so she simply gave Isabela a smirking grin.

"I'll keep that in mind. Shall we head to the Red Lantern District? I have to question someone there regarding a missing templar recruit," she said. Isabela lifted a brow, but said nothing.

"Let's go, then," she said.

Mai smiled, and her group headed out. The night air was cool and a slight breeze tickled her bare arms. She'd decided to keep wearing her tunic and breeches-wearing robes, even the nice ones she'd recently found, made her a bit too obvious to templars- the tunic had no sleeves, and the night air felt delicious on her naked arms. She chirped quietly in contentment, and led the way to the brothel.

* * *

><p>Orsino sighed, rolling up his sleeves. The night air felt incredible, but his thick silken robes didn't allow him much room to enjoy the temperature. He didn't feel like complaining <strong>too <strong>much- Meredith had been feeling generous, and the fact that she had allowed him to take a walk through Hightown, outside the Gallows, was nothing to turn one's nose up at. Being able to enjoy the silence of Hightown at night, being able to stroll about without a templar breathing down his neck was a thrill in of itself. He had made a sardonic joke of never being able to leave the Gallows, and Meredith had waved her hand at him and told him to go take a walk in Hightown. He had lifted a brow in suspicion, but Meredith was serious, even if she did tell him to be back within a few hours. Unable to resist such a temptation, he'd taken the offer.

A flash of movement in the corner of his vision made him turn his head. Nothing was there, but he had the sneaking suspicion he was being followed- by a templar chaperone, a bandit, or a resident that was curious to see an elven mage wandering the city at night. He rolled his shoulders, his staff a comfortable and familiar weight on his back, and he continued his stroll, but remained alert. His sharp ears caught the sound of foot steps- someone trying to be furtive- following close behind him. A smile curled his lips. Meredith wouldn't appreciate him using magic in the city, but the fool intent on robbing him would learn that being older, and an elf, did not make someone an easy target.

He turned as the footsteps crept closer, a smirk on his face, but it faltered a bit in surprise as he saw a large group of masked armored figures emerge from the shadows around the pillars. His eyes narrowed and recomposed himself. He knew those masks. Tevinter slavers. He scowled. As an elf and a mage, he was like a prize horse in a herd of mules. He was silent, standing straight and tall as the slavers surrounded him, but his face was a mixture of amusement and calm.

Well, this would certainly make for an interesting evening, wouldn't it?

* * *

><p>"Ooh, sore spot?"<p>

"Shut up, or I'll **give **you a sore spot, whore."

Mai giggled, unable to help herself at Aveline and Isabela's banter. Anders snickered, and Aveline scowled at them both.

"You're not helping, Hawke!" She said in exasperation. Mai feigned innocence.

"What? I didn't say anything!" She pouted. Aveline harrumphed, and Isabela laughed heartily.

"Lady Man-Hands is at a loss for-"

The group fell silent as they rounded the corner to see a group of armored figures flanked around a lone figure. Mai hissed as she recognized the masks- she'd seen them when they were helping Fenris.

"Slavers," Mai growled.

Without waiting for the slavers to notice their arrival, she threw her arms up, muttering to herself softly, her mana flaring into the night air and igniting, then soaring down onto the slavers with precision, fanning out over them in a controlled storm of flame. The slavers howled in rage and turned on their attacker. Aveline let lose a bellowing shout, drawing the attention of the slavers, and Mai sent her mana out again, freezing it and capturing the slavers in ice, their blistered skin freezing and cracking, starting to bleed and making them vulnerable. Isabela grinned and leapt onto her hapless targets, shattering limbs that were turned brittle with ice. Anders was murmuring as well, sending a shock of lightning through them all. The ice shattered, and disoriented, or dealing with splintered limbs, the slavers went for their closest target- Aveline, who taunted them again, brandishing her shield and holding them at bay as another onslaught of lightning, ice and poisoned daggers assailed them.

Orsino blinked as all the attention was directed away from him, his eyes flicking to the source of the gorgeously controlled firestorm he'd just witnessed. Was it one of his senior enchanters? The flames died down as a wave of ice took their place, and his vision focused on a young woman standing a distance away, her back arched and bare arms held out as though she were about to take flight, her mana glowing around her hands. Her umber brown hair hung to her mid back in thick waves, and her aqua colored eyes glittered as she fought. She wore a simple green sleeveless tunic, black breeches and knee high leather boots, but carried no staff- she was an apostate, hiding in the city. Her other companion- a male mage, was carrying a staff, but was not a man he recognized: another apostate that wasn't trying to hide what he was.

His attention was drawn to the sharp cry of the dagger wielding woman as a slaver closed in on her with his greatsword, slicing open her thigh. The mage let out a cry a split second later, and Orsino looked back to see her positively glowing with a soothing blue white light, her young face crinkled in pain and concentration. The guardswoman was suffering, too, and Orsino saw that the other mage had assumed the same glow, his own face contorted in pain. Spirit healers. Orsino hadn't seen one in a **long **time, let alone **two** in the same place.

Orsino shook himself out of the shock of being assisted, and began gathering his mana into his hand, his other hand reaching for his staff as he murmured his spell. He lashed out with his hand and sent a blazing ball of fire at the remaining slavers, sending them flying, the flames ignoring those that had come to his aid. The slavers that fell didn't get up again, and he spun his staff- showing off slightly- before sending off another fireball that finished off the last few assailants. The guardswoman blinked, standing there with her sword and shield still brandished, the rogue was staring at him, and the male mage looked like he wanted to bolt for the safety of Lowtown- the bridge to Lowtown was just behind him, and he saw the man's eyes fixed on it. Orsino locked eyes with the young woman.

Her intense eyes- that reminded him of a hawk or a falcon with their sharp gaze- weren't filled with panic. She was looking him over with awe, and what he perceived as jealousy. She made her way over to him, never breaking eye contact with him. Her stride was that of a predator- easy going, arrogant and confident- and Orsino found it hard not to let his eyes stray to the swaying of her wide hips. She was short for a human, average build, but had a set of hips that made a man want to put his hands on them. Orsino found himself wondering if she had a plush rump to compliment those wide hips of hers, and mentally slapped himself as she stopped a few steps away from him.

"I was going to ask if you were alright Ser," she said, and Orsino lifted a brow- she was Fereldan. "But you seem fine, especially after seeing that fantastic fireball you sent out."

Mai refused to say out loud that she'd also seen how he'd spun his staff in one hand, and that she'd liked it. She cocked her hips, resting her weight on one leg as she folded her arms over her chest. Orsino smiled coyly.

"I was going to say the same about the impressive firestorm you conjured. Not many can control fire like that without reaching an older age than yourself," he retorted, sliding his staff back into place over his shoulder. Mai shrugged.

"I've had a lot of mishaps teach me how **not** to wield fire," she said off handedly. "Some of them involved setting my little brother's hair aflame." Anders eyed her carefully and tugged at her elbow.

"Mai, we should go," he hissed. "You don't know this man."

Orsino made an apologetic face.

"He's right, you don't. I apologize," he said, giving a slight, but graceful bow. "I am First Enchanter Orsino. Thank you for your assistance, my dear."

Mai blinked, eyes going wide. **This **was the First Enchanter? She'd expected a feebler, frailer, older man than this- she hadn't expected to see such a capable, and strong mage standing before her. She recovered herself and held out a hand. For some reason, she wasn't nervous around him- she felt that she could trust him not to turn her in to the templars. She struggled not to react as he slid his gloved hand into hers, feeling the warm strength of his slender fingers against hers, and she shook his hand, smiling to cover the sudden bout of nerves that danced in her stomach.

"I'm Maidievh Hawke. Pleasure to meet you, First Enchanter," she said, her voice practically crooning- an attempt to cover the nerves she was feeling.

Mai berated herself. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling so giddy around this man she'd just met? She was drinking in the sight of him with her peripheral vision, so as not to make herself obvious that she was looking him over. He was older, his hair a medium silver with a slightly receding hairline, a few creases on his brow- most likely the result of worry- and he was slender, a combination of being an elf and a Circle mage, and she admitted to herself that she liked the slim line of his waist and hips. She couldn't ignore the lewd thought crossing her mind that it would be all too easy to wrap her legs around his waist- and that she wondered if she did that, how his hands would feel on her back. Mai couldn't stop staring at his eyes though. He had large expressive eyes- extremely expressive eyes; Maker help whomever he gave puppy eyes to- in a shade of a green that reminded her of the fields of Ferelden in spring. His eyes reminded her of home. He lifted a brow as he heard her name, and Mai pretended she didn't notice- he could have been lifting his brow at either her first name, recognizing where it came from, or her last name, which meant he had known her father. He said nothing about her name, much to her relief.

"An easily reciprocated pleasure," he replied, and Mai tried not to shudder. His voice wasn't incredibly deep or overtly masculine, but it had tones of education and experience that made his words spoken with a smooth dictation, and his voice rubbed over her ears and trailed down her spine like velvet. Mai noticed neither of them had let go of the other's hand. Orsino was the first to let go- almost reluctantly, but she might have imagined that look in his eyes. Anders coughed to get her attention.

"We... we should leave before attention is called to this situation, Mai," he said, still looking around for the templars he assumed would have been chaperoning the First Enchanter to dive on them and drag them to the Circle. Orsino sensed his tension and shook his head.

"You have nothing to fear. Knight Commander Meredith was feeling generous tonight and allowed me to take a walk on my own through Hightown. I don't have any templars with me- this time," he said. He realized too late that his words sounded like a threat and he winced, his eyes growing remorseful. Mai looked away- his eyes were so expressive, seeing remorse in them almost **hurt**. He mistook her sideways glance for disbelief and he scowled.

"Believe me, I won't turn you in. It refreshes my hope for mage freedom, seeing two apostates with such control and power. It means Meredith hasn't crushed all of them yet."

Anders blinked, as did Mai. Usually First Enchanters were devoted to the Circle, and tried to pull other mages into it, believing it their best option. Orsino chuckled slightly and waved a hand dismissively.

"Not the best place to discuss such things, I'm afraid, and I should head back to the Gallows before Meredith assumes I'm plotting to do blood magic," he said, his voice turning irritated at the end, sounding like velvet rubbed the wrong way, a tiny, almost imperceptible growl at the back of his throat. Mai tried to keep her features collected- Isabela, however, voiced what they both were feeling.

"A sexy Circle mage. Never thought I'd see one of those," she said, tilting her head, light catching the golden jewelry in her ears.

Mai suddenly felt a rush of anger at Isabela. She was angrily jealous of the woman's figure- Isabela made her feel extremely flat-chested and unattractive with her own modestly sized bust- and confidence when it came to men; men never noticed her around when Isabela was there to throw her shadow over her. An irrational part of her thought '_She can have any man she wants. Does she have to go after this man, too? I saw him first!' _She felt her breath hitch in her throat as that last thought crossed her mind. What was wrong with her? Orsino blinked at Isabela's comment, but seemed unphased by her charm- much to Mai's irrational relief.

"I... thank you, I guess. I'm not used to such comments," he said, but his eyes said otherwise- he was slightly taken aback. Anders tugged at Mai's arm, coughing again.

` "Mai. We need to go. Lights are coming on," he said hurriedly.

He was right- people in Hightown would have heard the commotion but wouldn't come out to investigate until they were sure the culprits were long gone. If they were found there at the scene, it would mean trouble. Isabela and Anders were already bolting for the bridge to Lowtown, and Aveline was a distance away, waiting for her to follow. Mai sighed and took one step backward, her brow crinkling. She had heard about the First Enchanter when they started their life in Kirkwall, she wasn't keen on leaving so soon, especially after seeing how powerful he was, how in control he was over his magic. So many questions were whirling in her mind. The same thought seemed to occur to Orsino, as he stepped forward, stopping a few paces from her, looking her in the eye.

"The Knight Commander and the Knight Captain are going to be scouring the country side for a few escaped mages tomorrow. Come to the Gallows and meet me in my office while they're gone. I admit you have me wanting to ask some questions. Wear those clothes- you don't look like a mage in them. Ser Thrask will be in charge and he won't give you trouble," he said, slipping his hand into the front of his robes and pulling out a small key. He pressed it into her hand, lifting a brow.

"If the door's locked, let yourself in," he said quietly, making her bones shudder to the core.

She nodded and slipped the key down the front of her tunic, the small metal object nestling between her breasts. She suppressed a shudder as the key slid into her cleavage- it was still warm from being in his robes. They looked at each other for another few moments, questions still flitting about both their heads, when the cries of guards could be heard from around the corner. Mai paled, and she darted to the bridge. Orsino felt a twinge in his stomach as his gaze fell to her hindquarters- the woman had an incredible rump. He watched as she turned the railing to ice and slid down it quickly. That was one way of getting away in a hurry. He laughed, the humor pushing away some of the ache he felt building in his stomach. He headed in the opposite direction, taking the direct path from Hightown to the Docks, where a templar would surely be waiting with a boat to take him back to the Gallows.

It certainly **had** been an interesting evening.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Some of this... is based on the silly(ok, completely stupid) RP I've been doing on twitter, and the Orsino there decided he is an ass man. It's my head!canon now, so if things are a bit silly, blame twitter, and blame EnchanterOrsino's player- it's all her fault! (love you, dearie!)

Thanks go out to EnchanterOrsino, DragonWyrd, and Twist Shimmy (who has been feeding Mai all this time- GODDAMNIT, SHIMMY! Ilu, bb! 3)


	3. Getting Her Foot in the Door

Maidievh hated Hightown. She hated the way the buildings reached towards the sky, casting shadows over the walks during intervals of the day, the tall structures seeming to overreach their boundaries as mere constructs, reaching towards the Maker Himself. She hated how everything was meticulously pruned **just so**, how the denizens walked about with their noses in the air as though trying to scent out anyone or anything that might befoul their precious haven of the self entitled- anything to distract them from the fact that they themselves were ignoring the scent of their own filthy secrets. What she hated most, however, were the people who bartered out incredibly dangerous jobs for a meager amount of gold, acting as though the small amount of coin was a generous gift to the people that completed their ridiculous bounties.

_'I really ought to charge more, or demand a travel fee_,'ishe scowled to herself as Hubert tipped a single sovereign into her hand for killing a nest of DRAGONS. '_At least I got some other reward from it.'_

Her hand flew to the pouch attached to her belt, reassuring herself for the millionth time that the vials of blood, carefully pulled fangs, claws and scales were still intact. Her mind was racing at the thought of the research she could perform with these ingredients. Anders had lifted a brow curiously as she corked up nearly ten vials of dragon blood, and she had smoothly lied that they were for the herbalist back in the Gallows- an answer that he had accepted without question. She didn't like lying to him, but seeing as they'd only known each other a few weeks, and seeing his adamant stance against any 'questionable' magic, she figured it was her best bet not to tell him of her plans.

"I appreciate the work you did. My gut instinct is never wrong, and it's telling me that you would be good for business. How would you like to be a partner, owning half the Bone Pit?" Hubert asked. Mai blinked.

"Why so trusting?" She asked, immediately suspicious. Hubert looked at her seriously.

"You are Fereldan, and the miners I employ are as well. You are willing to go into the mine and deal with dangers that plague the mines. Having a Fereldan employer that is willing to get their hands dirty will make the miners more willing to work."

Mai nodded- it made a lot of sense.

"Fine. I will do it to keep the workers safe. They could use an advocate," she said, earning a smile from Aveline. Hubert nodded and handed her another four sovereigns, which Mai pocketed gladly.

"There is your cut for now. I will send you more money after this quarter is up. If you could find the miners in Lowtown and tell them the mine is safe, I'd appreciate it."

Mai nodded and gave him a jaunty farewell, leading the way to Lowtown. Isabela made a face.

"Should've asked for payment up front, lovie. Orlesians will cheat you," she said. Mai shook her head.

"Not this time. He knows I can turn his miners against him at anytime if he tries to swindle me. I want the workers to be safe, but I don't work for free."

Isabela seemed satisfied with this, and nodded, smiling in relief as they crossed the bridge to Lowtown.

"Mmm. Lowtown is so much more fun than Hightown. Can we swing by the Hanged Man?" She asked, stretching. Mai nodded with a grin.

"That's where the miners are, anyway. Just don't get too sloshed, Izzy."

Aveline snorted as Isabela made a pouting face, and Anders looked amused. Mai shook a finger at her in mock scolding.

"I mean it, missy. We have to make a trip to Sundermount, and I need you sober- slightly."

Isabela groaned at the mention of their upcoming trip into the mountains. Mai would have let Isabela hang back, but she wasn't comfortable bringing Fenris with her to see the Dalish Keeper. She had the feeling that when he caught word of her dallying with Flemeth- if he'd heard of her- she'd never hear the end of it from him. Varric was busy making last minute plans and checking supplies for their expedition- Mai had accumulated thirty-five sovereigns, and Varric was counting on some people to pay back some debts, so they could be in business anytime now. There was no putting it off; the amulet had to be taken to Marethari.

They entered the Hanged Man, the warm air wafting toward them carrying the scent of alcohol, blood and other bodily fluids, and the questionable fragrance of the inn's famous "stew". Isabela waved at the barkeep, waving a few silver while grinning. The barkeep waved her over, pouring her usual. Mai's sharp eyes scanned the crowd, looking for her new employees. It wasn't hard to spot them. Aveline followed her over, and Anders excused himself to talk to Varric while Mai smooth talked the Fereldans. It didn't take long to convince the men to get back to work, and they did so gladly, Mai strolling away from their table with a smile. Unconsciously, she slipped her hand in the pocket of her shirt, fingering the small key the First Enchanter had given her.

She'd not visited him yet. He had told her when they met that the next day would have been sufficient, but she had found herself fighting off a blood mage in the brothel that had tried to bewitch her into slitting her own throat. She had spent that day recovering from the wound- it hadn't been bad enough to do major damage, but it left a small scar on her neck due to the skin being sensitive there. The following days were a flurry of events leading to discovering that there were demons being put into templar recruits to sow seeds of chaos. She had wanted to visit Orsino, but she wasn't sure how to go about it. She couldn't just stroll into the Gallows and ask to see the First Enchanter. She had no reason to. Okay, that was a lie- she had a reason: she wanted to see him again, to talk to him, ask him questions, but those weren't reasons that she could tell the templars. She had to go report to Knight Captain Cullen, to inform him of her findings, and that Keran was safe, but she couldn't exactly ask him to see the First Enchanter right afterward- the timing was bad. She scowled to herself about the templars. If only they were all like Ser Thrask. That thought made her blink, dropping the key back in her pocket. Ser Thrask, of course! He would look the other way while she visited Orsino- he owed it to her after she had sworn to keep his daughter's fate a secret. She should visit him before they headed to Sundermount. She wouldn't mind seeing him again, or hearing his voice rub her ears. The thought made her lips curve softly in a smile, and Aveline cocked her head at the expression.

"Are you alright, Hawke? You look dreamy," she said carefully, making Mai blink and shake her head.

"Mmm. Sorry, Aveline. Daydreaming," she replied, a flush creeping over her cheeks, not wanting to admit to Aveline she was thinking about the First Enchanter's narrow hips and cultured voice. Aveline lifted a brow and her glance flicked to Anders standing by Varric, chatting animatedly. Mai blinked.

"Oh, no, no, nothing like that, Aveline," she said, shaking her head. "Just looking forward to our expedition and getting the hell out of Lowtown."

Aveline smiled but her eyes were stern.

"Never forget where you came from though, Hawke," she said softly. Mai nodded.

"It will be hard to forget Uncle Gamlen searching my mail for coin," she smirked, and Aveline sighed. Mai stopped fingering the key and pulled her hand from her pocket, waiting for Anders and Isabela to come back to her side. As they trailed back over, she jerked her head to the door.

"We need to swing by the Gallows before we head out," she said. Anders blinked in alarm.

"The Gallows? Why?" He asked. Mai met his gaze.

"I have supplies that the herbalist requested, not to mention we really should tell Cullen that Keran is safe. I can have Varric come with me instead if you would rather stay, Anders. I know you're not comfortable there," she replied, catching Varric's attention by mentioning his name. He sauntered over, lifting a brow.

"Whatcha need, Hawke?"

"We need to go to the Gallows. Want to come with so Anders can head back to his clinic?" Mai asked. Varric nodded casually, and Anders game them both a grateful look before slipping out the door and disappearing in the crowded street. Mai envied his ability to simply melt into a crowd and disappear as they stepped outside and headed to the Gallows.

* * *

><p>Orsino signed the last correspondence form and sighed, setting down the swan feather quill and cracking his knuckles with a sigh of relief. Finally done after three hours of work. The forms floating between the Circles and the Chantry were constantly stacked on his desk, but he'd finally finished this stack. He scooped the papers into his arms and strode across the hall to Meredith's office, knocking on her door. Silence met his ears, and he sighed- she was out patrolling, no doubt. He found the door unlocked and stepped inside the office to place the paperwork on her desk where she would find it and take it to the Grand Cleric. He stretched after closing the door behind him. With that done, he could do some reading, or do his daily patrols through the Tower, seeing the progress of the apprentices and their mentors. He decided to do the former, moving back into his office and sitting at his desk, pulling a book from the nearby shelf.<p>

He found he couldn't concentrate on it, though. He kept thinking about the apostates he'd seen in Hightown. He hadn't seen either of them since that night. He frowned, slightly disappointed. He'd been hoping that the woman- Maidievh- would come visit. He had so many questions for her. Her name rang a bell in his mind, nagging at the corners of consciousness. He'd heard it before- her first and last name. Her last name continued to evade him as he pondered it, but an inkling of memory came to him about her first name. He got up and pulled another book from the shelf- a book on Tevinter legends. He sat back down and leafed through it, stopping as her name leapt out at him from the pages.

_**Maidievh, the Huntress and Provider.**_

_Maidievh is a high dragon, rumored to live in a remote area of Tevinter, her lair in the Hundred Pillars, her territory the foothills and steppes of the Silent Plains below. The locals of the small village of Solas revere her, as she does not hunt humans or elves, nor does she prey on their livestock, preferring large game like bears, wolves and deer. She only hunts once a year at the end of winter, scorching her territory to flush prey out of their hibernal hiding places. She gorges on her feast, then returns to her lair where she is tended to by her harem of drakes and her single wyvern. With the land burnt and cleared, it is primed for spring planting. The locals hail her as a benevolent goddess, and they often leave her offerings of meat at the beginning of winter, thanks for their bountiful harvests. Perhaps it is because of this detached symbiotic relationship, the dragon does not attack the human or elven denizens of her domain. Perhaps she does not care for the taste of their flesh. Whatever the reason, she is one of the few benevolent High Dragons of Tevinter. _

Orsino tilted his head. A benevolent and merciful dragoness. Did her parents know of the origins of her name, or did they overhear it spoken of and thought it was lovely? He ran a finger over the picture on the page- a dragoness soaring over an open field, scorching bears and wolves, both drawn with exaggerated ferocity, while villagers on the safe side of her flames cheered at her. The scaly face of the dragon was vengeful, but elegant and not monstrous as most dragons in Ferelden and the Free Marches were often depicted. He certainly thought it was an appropriate name for the apostate- she had been careful not to burn any of her allies with her flames, and she had taken their pain into herself to heal them. A benevolent spirit, indeed.

There as a knock at his door, and he looked up, his large eyes wide as he blinked. Standing at the entrance to his office, her hand still at the doorframe, was Maidievh. The Rivaini woman and the guardswoman from that night were with her, but the other apostate was gone, replaced with a clean shaven dwarf sporting a cross bow and an easy going smirk that seemed to be his default expression. He got up, trying hard not to smile widely. He noticed how her eyes flicked to the large open tome on his desk, and how they widened slightly at the picture of the dragon saving villagers from predators, but she said nothing.

"First Enchanter. Sorry I couldn't come sooner," she said apologetically. "Fighting demons and blood mages tends to tie ones hands."

Orsino was torn between laughing and scowling at her blunt mentioning of blood mages so openly in the Gallows, so he simply nodded, happy she was there at all.

"I am glad you came. I was afraid the templars had found you," he said quietly, motioning for her to come in. "Leave the door open."

Mai nodded, understanding his meaning- they could change the subject quickly if they saw a templar at the doorway, or if they heard the clink of armor down the hall. She moved into the office, her companions following suit. The dwarf instantly plopped into a chair, the Rivaini claiming the other, sprawling out most unladylike, and Orsino looked away as he realized the woman wasn't wearing pants under her long tunic and sash. Mai sighed at them both and resigned herself to shifting her weight onto one leg, cocking her hips- a motion Orsino found his eyes drawn to instantly, and it took a great amount of willpower to move his eyes back to her face.

"I don't exactly advertise what I am, First Enchanter," she said smoothly, nodding her head at the daggers on her hips. "I play the part of a rogue."

"Does it work?" Orsino asked, lifting a curious brow, wondering to himself how she managed without a staff. She grinned and pulled out a short rod from her boot, and a crystal from the pouch at her waist. With a flick of her wrist, the rod extended, and she fixed the crystal on top, twirling the staff a few times before dismantling and tucking it away again.

"I'm shit with daggers," she said. "They're just for show."

Orsino nodded, looking impressed. She was still wearing a tunic and breeches, the green sleeved tunic replaced with a black one, covered by a pocketed cream colored vest. She very much looked like a rogue- if it wasn't for the fact that as a fellow mage, he could feel her mana pulsing under her skin, he wouldn't be able to tell otherwise. He then noticed another pulse, and his eyes flicked to her daggers.

"Is that arcane poison on your weapons?" He asked, blinking. Mai nodded, a grin spreading across her face.

"It is. It masks my magic," she said softly. "Templars don't give me a second glance when they see the poison on them, or the 'conveniently exposed' vial of the stuff in my pockets. I just make sure to avoid Cullen, because I'm sure he or the Knight Commander would be able to tell the difference if I got close enough."

"A wise decision," Orsino said, his brows lifting. The woman was a clever one.

"I actually wanted to talk to you some more before heading out to Sundermount tomorrow," she said, absent mindedly playing with a lock of hair, tapered fingers twirling through the thick tresses. "We're going to see the Dalish Keeper, Marethari."

Orsino lifted a brow at that. What had she done to have an audience with a Dalish Keeper? Every time this woman opened her mouth, something unexpected flew out of it.

"You must have impressed the Dalish- not an easy feat," he replied. Maidievh shook her head.

"Never had dealings with the Dalish until now. I'm supposed to take something to the Keeper at the behest of someone from Ferelden," she said. Aveline looked up at her with a frown.

"Are you sure you should talk about this here, Hawke?" She asked. "It's not something you bring up where templars can hear you."

Orsino was beyond curious now, both eyebrows lifted in utter curiosity. Maidievh shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure most templars here wouldn't know the name Asha'Bellanar," she said flatly, and Orsino took a few steps toward her in excited disbelief.

"Asha'Bellanar? Truly?" He asked, not knowing if he could believe what he was hearing. Mai nodded at him, trying not to giggle at his expression. When he was excited, his eyes were so wide it was achingly adorable.

"She helped us escape the Blight," she said. "I know some say she's just a myth, a legend, but what else do you call a woman who can turn into a High Dragon?"

Her voice had taken on a dreamy and wistful tone, her eyes going distant, and Orsino could see she was daydreaming about flying through the skies as a dragon herself- he'd had that fantasy many many times. She shook her head, bringing herself back to earth, and he looked at her earnestly.

"What was she like?" He asked.

"A crazy woman who spoke in riddles," Aveline retorted. "She got us out of the Wilds, so at least it's something."

"She was... something else." Mai said, her voice still wistful. "Wish I could be a dragon."

Varric coughed lightly at her, and she blinked again, looking sheepish. Isabela laughed at her warmly.

"Sorry, I'm wasting time. The reason I came was to ask if there was anything you needed while I headed out to Sundermount. I already procured a list from Solitivus, but I thought asking you wouldn't do any harm, no?" Mai asked.

Orsino shook his head, and Mai thought she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head to ask for that wouldn't end up with arrows aimed at your throat," he said, smiling slightly. "The Dalish are very protective of their magic and the lore behind it. Thank you for asking though. I appreciate the thought."

A voice sounded down the hall, the sounds of conversation filtering down to their ears, and Orsino waved his hands at them hastily, his face pale.

"That's Meredith. Go, quickly. She won't be fooled by your subterfuge. I'll distract her," he said, grabbing some papers from his desk and sweeping from the room.

Mai looked disappointed, and her eyes trailed over the planes of his slender form as he left. She and her group slipped from the office, catching a glance of Orsino brandishing papers at a woman who could only be Knight Commander Meredith. Mai felt her heart double time. That was the woman she'd nearly plowed into in Hightown the day she'd met Varric. She prayed Meredith wouldn't recognize her from that day. Meredith failed to take notice of them, her face contorted in an impatient scowl as Orsino talked to her in an annoyed, rushed voice, continuing to wave the papers under her nose. As they rounded the corner, she saw Meredith snatch the papers from in exasperation, and Orsino turned to head back into his office. He caught her eye and gave her a small smile. Mai felt shivers run down her spine, and she returned it before slipping from the templar hall and back out into the courtyard.

Varric grumbled in annoyance as they got on a boat to head to the Docks, Aveline and Isabela nodding their agreement, all of them casting looks at Mai. Mai avoided their glances and was silent, not wanting to talk in front of the templar recruit that manned their boat. Once they were back in Lowtown and halfway to the Hanged Man, Varric finally voiced his complaint.

"Was there a reason we almost got busted by the Knight Commander, Hawke?" He asked, looking up at her curiously. Mai shrugged.

"I wanted to see if there was anything he'd need while we were out at Sundermount, Varric, nothing more," she replied. Isabela laughed.

"Right. That's all. What about what you wanted, lovie?" She countered, giggling as Mai turned beet red.

"Come off it, you two, we have work that needs doing," Aveline groused. "Besides, I doubt Hawke is interested in men old enough to be her father and then some. I hardly blame her for wanting to talk to another mage that isn't a fanatic like Anders. Let's go home and get rest for tomorrow."

Mai could have kissed Aveline right then and there, but said nothing, giving her companions a farewell as she turned down the street towards the hovel Gamlen called home. The hole in the wall she had been forced to call home for the past year. She pushed open the door with a sigh, still sulking over her visit with the First Enchanter being cut short, but a smile lit up her face as Aleun bounded up to her.

"Hey boy. Who's my big puppy?" She cooed, kneeling and wrapping her arms around the mabari's neck. Aleun whined happily, covering her face in slobbery dog kisses. Gamlen scowled at her from across the room.

"You have a letter," he snapped. "It's on the desk."

"He shook it to see if there was coin in it," Carver drawled as he came out of the back room, drying his wet hair with a rag. Gamlen made a face.

"I was only checking to make sure they wouldn't fall out!" He growled at Carver.

Leandra sighed from where she was sitting, and Mai was unsurprised that she made no motion to welcome her home. She ignored them all but Aleun as she strode over to the desk, the mabari following close so she could continue stroking his soft ears. She scooped up the letter and felt a few silver in the envelope. The letter itself was from an anonymous source, but it was asking her to assist with a delicate situation involving mages. Mai couldn't say no, and made note of where the letter said to meet the sender. She threw the letter into the fire and Carver looked her with a scowl.

"What was that, sister?" He asked.

"Someone asking for our help with a delicate matter," she said softly so Gamlen wouldn't overhear. Carver frowned.

"Mages, eh?"

"Yes. I'm going to assume this is Thrask, asking my help," she said quietly. Carver lightened up a bit at the mention of Thrask's name.

"Good templar, that Ser Thrask. Bit too soft on mages, but a good man. He probably wants us to help rally some mages back and send 'em back to the Circle," he said. Mai nodded.

"More likely than not," she replied. "Get some rest. We'll stop at the mentioned meeting place on our way to Sundermount."

Carver nodded and resumed drying his long dark hair, Leandra coming over to braid his forelocks back for him. Mai felt a slight pang of jealousy. For all Carver's whining about not having a place in the family, Leandra certainly doted on him a great deal. She ignored the domestic scene and climbed into her bunk, sighing at the itchy blankets. She hadn't changed her clothes to sleep in over a year- not since she'd seen Gamlen leering at her that night while she'd braided her hair, wearing her night shift. She'd burned it the next morning, and she now slept in her day clothes, changing them when she was sure Gamlen wasn't in the house.

Eventually, Carver came to bed, climbing into the bunk above hers, and later, Gamlen and Leandra put out the candles and went to bed as well. Mai tried to be quiet about it, but sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, the itchy threadbare blankets driving her insane. She finally growled and threw them on the floor. Aleun huffed indignantly and kicked them away before curling up in a ball on the floor. With the blankets no longer scratching at her skin, she finally fell into a light, uneasy sleep. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.


End file.
